What It Seems | Wattys 2023

Chapter 9

"I mean you don't have to if you don't want to. . ." I didn't want to say I wanted him to stay even if I did.

"Of course," he answered simply. I didn't know about him, but I felt awkward. I've never had any other guy sleep in my bed with me in it.

I ran my hand through my hair, realizing that it was still in the bun. Baylor walked on the other side of my bed and sat on top of the comforter. He leaned his back against the headboard and crossed his long legs. I rotated my body fully to face him.

"You're not tired?" I quizzed. He mumbled a "sorta" under his breath, just liable for me to hear.

"You don't have to do this - sleep in here, I mean. I just thought you'd be comfortable in a bed, so I offered." I was lying straight through my teeth.

He softly smiled reassuringly. "It's fine."

I pulled my comforter over my shoulder and laid my head on my pillow. The presence of Baylor remained, and I could feel his eyes lingering on me.

"Hey Adalynne?" I heard Baylor's voice questioningly. I craned my head, barely looking at him.

"Yeah?"

"What happened right there?" I felt his finger scurry over the top of my spine. Right where he touched me, I felt goosebumps rise from his contact with my skin.

"I had spine surgery last year 'cause I had scoliosis," I admitted. I always thought that it was embarrassing to have scoliosis, but I was half asleep and it was only Baylor that was asking me.

"Did it hurt?"

I shook my head. "No, they put me to sleep. I grew three inches though."

He laughed slightly. "You're still short."

I chuckled while I scolded him. "Shut up."

I yawned and pulled the corner of my bedding under my cheek. I was smiling and hoping he didn't notice as it was uncontrollable. Maybe Baylor wasn't as bad as I thought he'd be. Maybe he's the good type to be around.

"I thought your hair was blonde," Baylor announced. "Did you dye it permanently or something?"

I giggled, "No, it just changed colors throughout the years. You've missed out on a lot, haven't you?" I suggested. I craned my head and looked back at him. He had his head propped on the inside of his elbow, his hand supporting his head. He wasn't propped against my headboard anymore; he was just lying beside me. His long legs sprawled out all the way at the foot of my bed and his face was drawn from exhaustion. His lips were curled into an innocent smile, and I just realized he had dimples. He looked like a four-year-old.

"You look tired," I added. Of course, I wasn't going to add 'and cute' along with that line, but I had to admit, he did. His pale-looking face from the cold throughout the room and tiredness seeking through his body made the color in his face fall away. His eyes were barely held open, yet he still smiled and talked.

"I am." This time, he yawned and closed his eyes.

"Are you cold?" I asked. He shrugged. Insistingly, I tugged at the comforter beneath him, and he shifted. He pulled the comforter just up to his waist. I could tell he was uncomfortable just by lying in the same bed as me.

"I'm your best friend's sister, not a stranger. I don't care if you sleep in here. If you don't fart in your sleep, you'll be fine. And this bed is comfortable, I promise."

He already had his head lying on my extra pillows and the bedding was pulled up to his chest. He was on the other side of my bed, and it seemed like there was a whole landscape between our two bodies.